


Twin Dragons hidden in the snow

by SilverBlade



Series: Lya Snow [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Azor Ahai reborn - Freeform, Dragons, F/M, Incest because Targaryens will be Targaryens deal with it bro, R plus L equals J, Sibling Incest, jon snow has a twin sister, mor tags added latter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:38:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3937096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBlade/pseuds/SilverBlade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyanna Snow, twin sister to Jon Snow and bastard daughter of Ned Stark, grew up overshadowed by her stepmother and and her trueborn siblings. Follow her journey as she discovers all is not as it seems, finds a forbidden love, and learns of her true heritage. (Aka I suck at summaries)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lya Snow 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own A song of ice and fire and I do not make profit from this. If I did, Jon snow would actually have a twin sister, his parents would without a doubt be Rhaegar and Lyanna, and there would be more than three dragons.  
> The story will follow a mixture of both the books and tv show, however timeline and major events will likely be changed. The story is pretty much AU-canon divergence from the kings arrival in winterfell. Some parts will follow closely to the canon timeline and events, others will not. Characters follow tv ages rather than book ages, due to future sexual content. Character ages at the begining of the story are bellow  
> Stark Children: Robb-17, Sansa-13, Arya-11, Bran-10, Rickon-6  
> Lannister/Baratheon children: Joffrey-16, Myrcella-12, Tommen-10  
> Targaryen children: Lya and Jon-17, Daenerys-16, Aegon-(will not appear for a while, so no age mentioned yet)  
> Greyjoy: Theon-19

A cold chill ran through my bones and it had nothing to do with the northern frostland that even hung around during summer. For a moment, I even regretted begging my lord father to bring me along. All it took was one glance of the man who was to be executed to scare me shitless. It wasn't the man himself that made the hairs on my neck stand up, but the chill that hung over him. Briefly, I remembered Old Nan's stories of the wildlings and the others. True, I knew that the man was neither of them but a deserter of the night watch, but it didn't stop the thought regardless. Still, I kept my violet eyes locked ahead as I sat on my horse beside my twin, Jon. On the other side of Jon was my younger half-brother, Brandon stark. Like myself, it was the first time father had allowed him to watch an execution. Beside him was my other half-brother, Robb. Next to him was my lord father's ward Theon Greyjoy, best friend to Robb and myself.

 

We were all watching the same thing; the deserter bent over, ready to be beheaded. My father stood over him, said the words, and sliced the man's head off with one quick slice. I didn't allow myself to flinch; I refused to be thought of as a prissy girl. A few seats across from me, I heard Theon laugh as he kicked the head that had rolled to his feet. Beside me, Jon muttered, "Ass." I couldn't help but agree. Theon was my friend, but he could be a real asshole. Especially to my brother, Jon. I guess it came with the fact we were bastards, but one could never be sure.

 

Being a bastard was not easy. Being the lord of Winterfell's bastard children, contrary to what many people believed, was just as bad. Well, at least it was when your stepmother was Catelyn Tully-Stark. Lady Stark was a true southern lady, with the typically Tully trait; blue eyes and red hair. Her heart however, was as cold as the northern winters themselves. Ever since Jon and I could remember, she treated us like the outcasts we were. She never even used our names; because of her for a couple years I thought my name was bastard rather than Lya Snow. It did not help that while most of her children with the exception of Arya who looked like a mini grey eyed me, had near nothing of their father's looks while Jon and I were Stark's through and through. Dark brown hair and long faces. With the exception of my eyes of course; which were violet rather than the Stark grey. People sometimes said I was the reincarnation of my namesake and dead aunt Lyanna.

 

My siblings however, were a different matter entirely. With the exception of Sansa, I was inseparably close to my other half-siblings. Ever since I could walk, I had been sword and stick fighting with my oldest half-brother, despite my father's insistence I should be trained in Lady arts like my sisters. At Catelyn's order and my begging, he eventually let go of the subject and let me play among the boys. When I grew old enough, I started sword lessons along with Robb and Jon, and eventually Theon. After years of training, I was good enough that I could knock both Robb and Theon on their asses. I could never beat Jon though, he was a natural fighter. When I wasn't fighting, I was teaching myself to read and ride.

 

Focusing my attention back on my brothers, I listened to what they were saying; I didn't pay attention until I caught the words race and bridge. Before I could comprehend the words, my horse was off after Jon and Robb. We rode like that for a while Robb laughing and me smiling as I gained the lead. I was a length infront of Robb when my horse suddenly skittered to a halt, leaving me half hanging off her back. Behind me, I heard Robb gasp as he slid off his horse and walked past mine. I followed with my eyes until I saw what had made my horse halt and Robb gasp. By now, Jon had rode up behind me, voicing my thoughts.

"Is that.. A direwolf!?" He exclaimed, mouth hanging open. Squinting slightly, I too could see the great wolf lying in the ground.

Ahead, Robb nodded. "A dead one." I froze as I realised what that meant. Direwolves had not been seen South of the wall in over a hundred years. A dead one now was certainly bad luck.

A few seconds later, I heard Robb gasp again and shout out, "Pups. It has pups. Quick Jon, go get father." Jon complied, turning his horse around and bolting back in the direction we came. Vaulting off my horse and quickly tying her to a tree, I rushed to my brother's side.

 

As I got closer, I could see that there were in fact pups nestled up to the dead mound of fur and maggots. All were still alive, and absolutely adorable. I could count five little bundles of fur. Behind us, I could hear horses galloping in the snow towards us just as Jon pulled up Robb and I. Robb picked up a grey-black pup and held It close to himself. "Gods!" I heard the familiar voice of Greyjoy exclaim behind me, spinning around to see Theon and Jory with their swords out.

Jory called out to Robb to get away from the dead wolf, but my brother just grinned and replied, "she can't hurt you. She's dead, Jory." Behind them, I could see my younger brother Bran jump off his horse and ran towards us as Theon and Jory dismounted.

"What in the seven helps is it?!" Theon demanded me, but Robb answered for me.

"A wolf."

"A freak,"Greyjoy replied and I rolled my eyes.

"It's a direwolf." I answered at the same time jon said, "It's not a freak, it's a direwolf. They grow larger than the normal kind."

“There’s not been a direwolf sighted south of the Wall in two hundred years," Theon pointed out.

"Well, do you have a better conclusion for what it is?" I asked him pointedly. Beside me, I heard Bran cry out in delight as he noticed the pups and Jon handed him another one. Hullen and Jory both voiced there suspicions, and father replied that it's only a dead animal before asking Robb if he knew what killed her. I zoned out right about then, and instead occupied myself by studying the pups. Vaguely I heard the men arguing whether or not to kill the pups when my twin spoke up.

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said to father, “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.” I could tell immediately what he was doing, and I knew father and Bran realised it too. But i know it stung Jon to say that; it had stung me too. Surprising myself, I spoke up in affirmative, "He is right, Lord Stark. Killing these pups would be a bad sign."

Father looked between for a few seconds before asking, "You want no pups for yourself, Jon and Lya?"

In sync, Jon and I shook our heads. "We are not of the Stark house, father. The direwolf is not our symbol" I stated solemnly. Father seemed to take this into consideration, and after lecturing the boys, agreed.

 

As we were about to mount our horses, I noticed something moving in the snow a distance away. Robb looked back at me quizicly. "Ride ahead, I'm just checking something out." I called out. Leaving my horse tied up, I padded back towards the wolf, and noticed two strange lumps of Snow. Both started to move and whimper. It was too direwolf pups, not snow. Bending down carefully, I picked up the two and examined them. One a boy, one a girl. The boy was albino with red eyes, but the girl was as white as its brother with violet eyes. Smiling, I called out to Jon, who slipped off his horse and ran back to me. The others watched curiously from a distance away. "I found two more Jon." I said softly, the smile evident in my voice. Beside me, Jon broke out into a large grin before carefully taking the male pup and hugging it softly. By then, Theon had walked over to us, looking at us strangely.

Then he snickered at Jon and his pup, "An albino. It will die even quicker than he others."

I envied Jon in that moment for the chilling look he gave Theon before stating firmly, "I think not Greyjoy. This one belongs to me."


	2. Lya Snow 2

The whole castle was in chaos. Dresses were being fitted, banners being hung, halls being cleaned. It was quite frightening if you ask me; Lady Stark was in a worst mood than usual. Everything had to be perfect for the royal guests. I took to disappearing to the woods, my direwolf, who I had named Spirit to match Jon's ghost, laying on my lap as I rode. My presence was not missed, in fact I think Lady Stark was very welcome with the idea. Jon too had taken to disappearing. The rest of my siblings were too busy being fitted and fused over to notice my absence. The day of the Kings arrival drew closer, and with every day the people of Winterfell grew more restless. It was enough to make my sleep in the woods for a single night.

Unfortunately, I had chosen the night before the precision to go rogue. Beside me, I could see Spirit sniffing the air, before she looked at me with this silent, questioning, violet eyes of hers. Sitting up, I briefly wondered what was wrong before rubbing my eyes and sitting up. I was laying in a bed of leaves, Spirit still curled up beside me. It appeared to be mid-morning. I was dressed in my breeches and tunics, along with several branches in my hair. Not bothering to de-branch myself, I picked up the ever-growing bundle of fur, untied and mounted my horse, and rode home to Winterfell. As I rode, I allowed myself to enjoy the beautiful scenery around me. To any southerner, it was cold, harsh and too white. On the other hand, and northerner could see it's true beauty. The woods were covered with heavy snow that glistened in the sunlight, and occasionally you would see a winter-bird or a snow shrike in a tree, or perhaps even a wolf stalking its prey. I was half worried that Spirit would try to run off with her cousins, but my worries were stilled when she give them no notice but a sniff in the air.

It was when I arrived at Winterfell that I noticed the chaos. My trueborn siblings were lined up in order of age. Behind them was Theon, and Jon was nowhere to be seen. I gave a quick and nod and smile to Arya, who was sulking, before slipping into the castle. I let my feet lead me rather than my mind. I went down several flights of stairs before coming to a familiar hall. The crypts.

The crypts was where I spent most of my time when I wasn't sword fighting, riding, or chatting with Theon or my brothers. Of course, I meant no disrespect to the Stark family by hiding in the crypts, but I had always felt a certain pull to it. Again, I let my feet decide were to go, and before long I was standing in front of a statue almost identical to myself. I let my eyes trace over the statue, admiring every little detail. Like with the crypts, I felt a certain pull towards the statue of my aunt Lyanna.

The fascination with my late aunt started when I was around seven, too young to understand her part in the war, or to know anything other than that she was my aunt, that she was dead, and that I looked a lot like her. It was around that time I had started to dream of her at night. The first was set in a castle, but he castle was not winterfell. At first I had though it was an older me, but the grey eyes told me otherwise. She was standing in a wedding gown, her hands entwined with the hands of a man with silver hair and purple eyes. At the time, I hadn't know who it was, but now I suspect it had been Rhagear Targaryen. Sometime afterwards I asked father if Lyanna had ever married, but he had stiffened before replying no. I don't know why, but I had a feeling he had lied.

The second dream of Lyanna was when I was nine. By then I had learnt what had actually happened to her. The dream was of her death; she lay on a bed in a puddle of blood, two crying babies in her arms. Also in the room was my father and another man. Under her breath, Lyanna was saying, "Promise me Ned" That dream was probably the strangest one I had ever had. I had a few other dreams of her over the years, and had developed a pull towards her. 

I was startled when I heard voices talking. One was a man I did not know, and the other was my father. I prayed that they would stop at one of the over statues, any but the one I was standing in front of, but the steps kept coming closer and closer. The steps stopped quickly, and I heard my father's voice, "Lya, what are you doing down here?" Beside him, the man was gaping like a fish.  
"Lyanna?!" The man whispered.  
"You're grace.." My father started, looking at the man.  
I looked back blankly. "No. My name is Lya Snow." I said simply. It was about then that I realise the man was in fact the king. At the same time I realised this I felt my knees go down into a kneeling position. "Sorry for my rudeness, my king." I mumbled.  
"Nonsense! Rise child." The king barked, but not unkindly.  
Slowly, I stood up to look the man in the face. Only then did I really get a good look at the King. All the stories Old Nan had told us of the handsome and strong man who killed Rhaegar Targaryen went out the window. While the man in front of me probably once was that man, it was still hard to believe it, what with that beard and fat.  
The King looked at my father before asking him, "This the bastard girl of yours, Ned?"  
Father nodded stiffly.  
The king moved closer to me, inspecting me. "Violet eyes." He noted. Father stiffened at the King's words. He was as surprised as me when the King broke out into a wide smile. "I always knew they were Ashara Dayne's"  
My hear stopped slightly, but father looked semi relieved. Until he caught my eyes. Then he stiffened again. I on the other hand, could not move as my brain processed the words. I had heard commoners every now and again gossip that my mother was Ashara Dayne. I had even approached father once about it, but he had grown angry and denied it. Now, as the King's words sunk in, I knew that the commoners were right. I glanced over at my father, but he would not meet my eyes. I felt myself grow angry, and before I could comprehend my actions, I was storming out of the crypts.

And then I ran. I don't know how long I ran for, but by the time I stopped I was surrounded by the snow and trees of the woods. Exhausted, I sunk to my knees and cried. I didn't cry often, but the tears just slipped out. And out and out and out. I was still crying when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning my head around, I shoved myself away from my father's hand, like one would from a viper. I had stopped crying now. The tears were replaced with anger. "Why? Why didn't you tell us! We had a right to know!" I snapped at him, crawling backwards to put distance between us.  
He wore a sad expression, and I could swear I saw guilt in it. "Lya..." He started to say, but I would have any of it.  
"Don't! Don't try and deny it! When were you going to tell us? Never?" I spit. At that moment, I couldn't give a rats ass that I was talking to the lord of Winterfell. I was not prepared when he grabbed my shoulders. Startled, I looked into my father's eyes, only to see that he was battling with himself.  
Eventually he steeled himself enough to say, "What I am about to tell you, you can never repeat to anyone. Not even jon" he said firmly. I didn't understand. Why couldn't I tell jon who our mother was? My thoughts were cut off when he continued. "The tourney of Harrenhal, You know the events?"  
I nodded carefully.  
"Then you know that Prince Rhaegar crowned my sister, Lyanna, as the queen of beauty?"  
I nodded again, still not understanding what this had to do with my mother.  
"Do you remember the story of how Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna?"  
I nodded again.  
His next words shattered my entire life.  
"Rhaegar did not kidnap my sister. They ran away together, and married in secret. A year later, I found Lyanna in a pool of blood. She had just given birth to Rhaegar's children. Twins"  
The words sunk in, but my brain kept trying to deny the meaning behind them.  
"Those twins, were you and Jon."

I was frozen with shock as my mind unravelled the words. Eddard Stark was not my father. I was not a bastard. I was not a snow or a stark. My parents were Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. I was a Targaryen. Jon and I were the heirs to the throne.

Carefully, I looked back up at father. No, uncle my mind screamed at me. "You claimed me and Jon as your bastard children to keep us safe." I whispered. My uncle nodded.  
Anger started to flood through me. "Lady Stark doesn't know, does she?!" I spit. In that moment, I wasn't even angry at Lady Stark. I was angry at my uncle. It was his fault jon and I had been isolated and neglected.  
My uncle sighed. "It was to keep you safe. Robbert would have killed you both if he had found out. It was not a risk I could take. I promised my sister, your mother, that I would keep you and your brother safe."  
I wanted to yell at him, to scream at him. But I couldn't. His lie was the only thing that had kept me and Jon alive.  
"But Lya, I want you to know, that the truth doesn't make you any less of my daughter." He said quietly.  
And truth be told, I still thought of the man in front of me as my father.


End file.
